


The United States of America: Cross-player For Great Justice!!

by FallacyFallacy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1920s, Blow Jobs, Community: kink_bingo, Crossdressing, First Time, M/M, Maid uniform, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-08
Updated: 2011-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-15 12:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallacyFallacy/pseuds/FallacyFallacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lithuania expected working for America to be just like working for Russia and treated it as such, uniform and all. But America isn't exactly your typical nation... Written for my free square for Kink_Bingo which I chose to be 'Domestic/Tradesmen'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The United States of America: Cross-player For Great Justice!!

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty sure the maid outfits in this story couldn't possibly exist at this point in history, but Himaruya-sensei was the one to draw Lithuania wearing a maid outfit while working for Russia anyway, so I'm only working within canon here, technically. I've tried to be as accurate as possible with regard to the time period and all and I did look some things up but I could easily have made a few mistakes and probably did... sorry...

During the ride from the airport to America's house, Lithuania was silent.

 

When he looked back, he wasn't sure what he had expected America to be like when he agreed to work for the nation. He knew the basic facts – America was young, only a hundred or so years old, an old colony of England's that had seceded. From this alone, he'd always vaguely liked the nation, if in an understated way – after all, America had done what almost every other nation had wished to do at some point. For Lithuania, who had been looked upon so ravenously by Russia and had even been under Poland to a small but significant extent while they were joined, this was no idle fantasy. America had forced his way out, demanding independence. It was a pleasant idea.

 

But he'd never really known much about America. So when he'd begun hearing some rather uncomfortable things about him since he'd started living with Russia he didn't really have anything else to compare the information with. America was an awful, materialistic, bureaucratic country with a class system so strong it is almost impossible to further one's position in society. He is run by a rich, powerful few who preside cruelly over the poor majority. The system doesn't work and is destined to fail.

 

Maybe Russia was wrong. Maybe everything Russia had told him was wrong. On the other hand, Russia himself hadn't precisely given Lithuania the most positive impression. He wasn't a bad nation – not totally. Lithuania could never quash a small part of him deep down which felt genuine pity for him. But he had hurt Lithuania's people and kept him from them, and those were two things he could not forgive.

 

So as he rode the ship from his home to America he deliberately put up his defences. If America proved himself a kind, trustworthy country, he would open himself up more and be friendly. If, more likely, America turned out to be just as cruel and selfish deep down as Russia was, he would do his duty as America's maid but he would not let the other nation learn anything about himself at all.

 

People weren't always as they appeared to be and that counted double for countries. Many nations which appeared genuinely charming would cheerfully stab you in the back the minute you turned, and some that seemed gruff and self-centered at first glance were loyal to the core. Lithuania knew this.

 

However... America didn't seem like that.

 

Which was the point, obviously – to appear to be earnestly good-hearted in order to lower his enemies' guards and reel in victims.

 

But, well... America just seemed so _genuine_. It was impossible to see him and not think it, Lithuania believed. There were many things that came to mind after spending even a single conversation with him – loud, outgoing, confident, energetic, friendly, maybe even a touch arrogant – but none radiated so strongly from the country's every gesture and expression as the word _honest_.

 

Either America was one of the most earnestly nice nations Lithuania had ever had the fortune to meet (and Lithuania knew Finland so this wasn't a small achievement) or America was one of the greatest actors in the world. At the present it was hard to tell which seemed more unlikely.

 

As soon as he'd spotted him at the dockyard America had rushed over, beaming and waving, greeted him, and, talking a thousand miles an hour, had grabbed Lithuania's suitcase before he could protest and started off. Ever since the other nation had been a whirlwind of activity – even when he was silent he somehow exuded boundless energy.

 

Bar answering a few necessary questions, Lithuania had remained silent.

 

Whatever he'd expected this wasn't it. Even though he'd decided on his plan earlier, it almost didn't seem to apply here. In confusion and worry, Lithuania clammed up even more than he'd intended, refusing to even maintain a normal conversation with America. He had no idea what to do or how to approach this man.

 

He was sure America had noticed – although he'd been talking non-stop at the shipyard, during the ride to his house he'd been a lot quieter, shooting Lithuania glances every now and then when he thought he wasn't looking. Apparently America wasn't the only nation not entirely sure how to handle the situation.

 

“Well, here we are!” America declared finally, parking his car in a cosy garage. Lithuania was surprised – the house looked much the same as any of the other houses they had passed. Perhaps it was a bit bigger than usual, but otherwise was indistinguishable from any other Americans' house. Until now, Lithuania hadn't realized how much he'd been expecting America to live in a mansion like Russia.

 

Stranger and stranger...

 

“So! Shall I give you the tour?”

 

Inside, the house was much the same as it was on the outside – large enough and fitted with the latest gadgets and technologies, but not noticeably so. It was very...comfortable. It reminded Lithuania of home.

 

“All right, then, well, this is your room...I guess you wanna take a shower now, or have a sleep?”

 

Lithuania took his suitcase. “Yes.”

 

“Awesome! Well, see you later?” With an almost nervous-looking wave, America left downstairs. Lithuania stared after him for a moment before shaking his head and entering his room.

 

His own room! How surprisingly luxurious! When he'd been living with Russia, Lithuania had usually had to share a room with Latvia, Estonia, or both, and even when he hadn't Latvia often preferred to sleep with another, anyway. Before that, while they'd been joined as a Commonwealth, he had slept with Poland. Lithuania was surprised and slightly dismayed at realizing how little of his history had really been spent in a room of his own.

 

He had a shower before returning to his suitcase, opening it up to take out a few things. America had said 'see you later' which meant he would probably be expecting him soon. He'd been kind enough to give him a room and allow him time off to shower, but Lithuania didn't want to provoke his disapproval by lingering long enough for a nap. He had probably only suggested that to be polite, anyway.

 

Pulling on his uniform Lithuania ignored the mirror by his wardrobe. It had bothered him at first, wearing such a girly, revealing thing, but he had eventually gotten used to it. He might still not totally like it, but it was a uniform – he wasn't meant to like it. It was meant to please his master, and, well, that it did very well. If he were more diligent he would probably go out of his way to adjust his appearance so he looked appealing but he had always found that it took too long and was almost unnecessary, anyway. The uniform was enough.

 

Tying the tie under his chin, Lithuania smoothed his hair, letting his bangs fall forward. Hopefully America would be as placated by the uniform as Russia had been, but if not, he would wear whatever he required. He might not like it here, but he didn't have to – even though he was now working under America in much the same way he had been for Russia, he and his people were still allowed a great deal more freedom here than they ever had been under the larger nation. If that changed he'd complain but until then he'd do whatever it took to maintain his position.

 

He walked down the stairs to find America listening to some comedy program on the radio in the living room. As he entered, he caught America's attention, and before he could speak, said, “do you inquire anything from me at present, Mr. America?”

 

America stared.

 

Lithuania fidgeted. America didn't seem pleased, but it was hard to tell whether he was displeased. For the first time since Lithuania had met him he seemed genuinely lost for words. And his face was very – red?

 

Ah, yes – he was still young, wasn't he? Perhaps he needed some encouragement to accept Lithuania's uniform?

 

Before Lithuania could come up with a way of doing that without making himself feel like an idiot, America said in a surprisingly high-pitched voice, “What are you wearing?”

 

Lithuania blinked. But – oh! Of course! He found himself coloring in turn. This was the uniform he had worn with Russia, and now that he thought about it, America hadn't specified anything about a uniform, had he? But surely this was just a normal uniform for a domestic servant here, like in Russia, wasn't it? The black and white color scheme, the puffed-out ankle-length skirt with a petticoat, the apron, the poofy sleeves, the cravat at his collar, the frilled headdress, the white socks, the black shoes...?

 

“My uniform,” he replied cautiously.

 

“Oh. Um. You don't need to wear that,” America replied hastily, laughing inexplicably, face still red. “That's. There's no uniform, here. Just wear whatever clothes you like!”

 

But...what? Lithuania stared at America, eyes narrowed. No uniform? But...he was working here, wasn't he? As America's servant, if with pay. He was there to serve America in whatever way he wished to earn his keep, including wearing whatever clothing he deemed suitable.

 

Was he...displeasing America? Did he not find Lithuania appealing – was that why he didn't care what he wore?

 

Worried, Lithuania shook his head. “I would prefer to wear this.” Surely America would be satisfied with him. He was just young, that was all – just a bit embarrassed. In fact, now that Lithuania looked, America did seem to be looking over him a lot. Probably he did like it, yes, he was just a bit awkward about it.

 

“W-well... if you want to, I guess...” America continued slowly, looking awfully confused.

 

Lithuania nodded. He would please America, no matter what it took. He had to stay there. “Yes.”

 

“Right.” America shifted. “Um, also – you don't have to work today, you know?”

 

“...why?”

 

“Because! You just got off an awfully long boat trip! Surely you must be tired, wanting to rest?” He waved his hand. “Don't worry about today, you can start working tomorrow, I don't mind.”

 

This nation was becoming more and more bemusing.

 

“You do not wish me to work today?”

 

“It's not... yeah, sure,” he agreed. “I want you to take the day off today.”

 

Lithuania frowned inwardly but was careful not to express himself. Had he done something wrong? It was clear that he was bothering Mr. America if he was making up excuses for him to leave. Even the offer to help him in whatever matters he desired was not enough to convince America to keep him around. “As you wish,” he said politely, before returning to his room.

 

*

 

The next morning Lithuania woke up at five o'clock. He was grateful for the alarm America had provided but it was not necessary – Lithuania had woken up at this time enough for it to be habit. He dressed into his maid uniform as usual and looked into his mirror. Today was the first full day he would work for Mr. America and he would need to make a good impression.

 

Quietly he padded past America's door, making sure not to wake him. He'd wake up early, too, to go to work but not for another hour. Instead, Lithuania went downstairs as silently as he could.

 

He planned to do the dishes left over from their dinner last night but, unexpectedly, the sink was empty. Had America done them himself after Lithuania had returned to bed? That was... well, Lithuania did not know what to think about that. Did he not trust Lithuania with his cutlery? It was a disturbing thought but seemed unlikely – if he were truly wary he could simply check them himself after Lithuania had finished working. Perhaps he had thought he was doing Lithuania a favor? But that just didn't make sense – cooking and cleaning up was his job. What was he being paid for if America was going to do it for him?

 

However, as confusing as this line of thought was, Lithuania did reluctantly admit that this explanation did seem to fit. Last night the younger nation had insisted on helping Lithuania to cook dinner despite his protestations. If the dish they had been making were difficult and America were concerned about Lithuania's ability to prepare it properly Lithuania could understand but the meal had been a relatively simple one of roast beef and baked potatoes. Impressive, yes – Lithuania hadn't eaten so much or so well for a long time – but far from complicated.

 

Maybe the nation really was genuinely nice after all...?

 

Shaking the thought from his head, Lithuania preheated the oven and began to polish the faucet. He and Mr. America had already agreed that Lithuania would cook a special celebratory breakfast today (or, that is, America considered it celebratory; Lithuania had merely wanted to set a good example of himself, but hadn't really wanted to correct him) of sausages, eggs, and toast. However, the oven would require time to heat up enough.

 

Later, Lithuania was just stirring America's coffee when a loud voice rang out behind him. “Oh, wow – thanks, Lithuania!”

 

America stood in the doorway, beaming. He was dressed already, of course, in a buttoned-up white shirt, brown boots, and long pants with suspenders. He looked quite handsome, Lithuania thought privately, and would be even more so when he donned his coat and hat when he left for work.

 

"Thank you, Mr. America,” Lithuania replied, smiling pleasantly.

 

"Everything looks great! Is this mine?” He gestured to the plate on the counter.

 

"...of course.” Did America believe that Lithuania would not be ready to serve him when he awoke?

 

Before Lithuania could say anything America was digging a fork into the eggs and shoving it into his mouth. “Tase' gray!” he mumbled, giving Lithuania a thumbs up.

 

Mouth twitching, Lithuania turned away. America acted so strangely sometimes! “Thank you.”

 

However, when he turned back he found America staring at him again, a strange expression on his face. It was the same sort of half-embarrassed, half-uncertain expression he had been wearing the night before. Clearly, he had remembered Lithuania' outfit.

 

Frowning, Lithuania finished stirring and placed the teaspoon into the sink. “Mr. America should eat now if he wishes to leave for work at six thirty.”

 

"Right, yeah,” America said distractedly, pausing for a moment and then taking the dish in a hasty movement. “What about you?”

 

"I have already eaten.”

 

America was frowning. Lithuania ducked his head. If Mr. America was displeased that was that.

 

"...well, I guess if you prefer it that way, that's that.”

 

Huh? Confused, Lithuania responded automatically. “Yes.”

 

America pursed his lips. “Well, all right. But if you're sure...”

 

After that, breakfast passed smoothly. America listened to the radio as he ate and Lithuania could hear it as he dusted the living room. It was...nice, actually. Quiet, but nice. Although he was still wary of America he found himself more relaxed around him than he was with Russia. He was enjoying the change.

 

Eventually, America left for work (looking just as handsome before he left as Lithuania had expected) and Lithuania continued his work for the day. As America's house was far smaller than Russia's had been there wasn't as much work to do and Lithuania find himself running out of tasks to perform.

 

In the evening he prepared Mr. America's dinner for when he would return, but eight o'clock came and went and still the younger nation had not arrived. Lithuania began to fret, doing everything he could to keep the meal from either burning or going cold but there was nothing to do. He hoped America would not be too displeased with him when he finally returned. Maybe he hadn't said eight after all – maybe he'd said he would return at nine? If so, it was entirely Lithuania's fault, and even if not Lithuania fully expected to take all the blame anyway.

 

By the time the doorbell rang at 8:50 Lithuania had resigned himself to whatever punishment America saw fit to bestow upon him and went to the door with apology written clearly in his eyes.

 

"Hey, Lithuania! Sorry I'm late, I went somewhere else after work,” America declared cheerfully as Lithuania helped him out of his hat and coat and left them on the stand by the door. “Golly, but it sure is cold out there!”

 

"Good evening, Mr. America,” Lithuania greeted politely, then bowed. “I apologize, but sir's dinner has gone cold.”

 

Again America surprised him. “Don't worry about that – it's my fault for not telling you I'd be out longer!” America waved his hand dismissively. “We'll just make do. Or have you already eaten?”

 

"Yes.”

 

"Good idea! Don't let my bad sense ruin your dinner, too!” Confidently, the younger nation stalked off to the kitchen and Lithuania rushed forward to remove the dish from the now-cold oven. “That looks all right! I'm sure if you made it it'll taste great even if it's cold!”

 

Taken aback, Lithuania could only stumble “Th-thank you...”

 

America laughed. “Oh, it's probably not as big a compliment as you think – after living with England for a hundred years, _anything_ else tastes good!”

 

Unsure what to say, Lithuania merely nodded.

 

Taking his dinner to the dining room, America paused. “Ah, also, after dinner I have something to show you, okay, Lithuania?”

 

America had something for him? Deeply curious, Lithuania nodded. “Of course, Mr. America.”

 

America paused. “Also, uh – you know that you don't have to call me that, right?”

 

"Mr. America...?”

 

"Yeah, that.”

 

Feeling more confused by the second, Lithuania shook his head. “I don't understand.”

 

"That whole 'Mr. America' business. Don't worry about that – just call me 'America', I don't mind. We're all nations here, all equal. The 'sir' thing, too – don't worry about it.”

 

Lithuania's eyes grew wide. “M-” He stopped himself in time, unsure how to express how deeply rude it would be to follow Mr. America's suggestion.

 

America laughed. “See? You're getting it already!” He walked over to his table and sat down, repeating it once more - “'America'!” - before starting on his dinner.

 

While America ate Lithuania flittered about, trying to find something to do. It was too early for him to take off work but with a smaller house with fewer people living in it there was simply not as much to do here as there had been in Russia's house. Sometimes he caught America's eyes on him as he moved from place to place but he couldn't discern the expression on the younger nation's face.

 

Eventually America finished and stood up. Eagerly, Lithuania rushed forward to take his plate.

 

"I'll just be back in a jiffy, okay, Lithuania?”

 

"Yes...” Lithuania trailed off, unwilling to address him quite yet.

 

If America noticed he didn't show it. “Awesome!” he said and left for upstairs.

 

As Lithuania placed America's plate in the sink and turned on the faucet he found himself wondering about what exactly Mr. America planned to show him. From his smiles and bright language it seemed like it'd be a good thing, but what? And what was good to America wouldn't necessarily be good to Lithuania... Lithuania still found it a little strange to imagine Mr. America giving him something unpleasant deliberately (although he was still careful not to have his guard lowered too easily) but even the optimistic part of him had to admit that the chances of him giving Lithuania something bad by accident were not low.

 

His reverie was broken by a nervous cough behind him and, momentarily excited, Lithuania turned.

 

And then stared.

 

"Right. So!” America declared loudly, one hand on his hip, one curled in a fist by his mouth. “I thought that. Since you wanted to wear _that_ , and all. But I didn't want there to be any, y'know, difference, between us? That is, I mean...” America was blushing; Lithuania was quite certain that he was as well, and even more so than he. “I wanted you to...know. That I don't subscribe to that whole thing. That idea that since I'm bigger than you, or richer, or...or whatever, that I'm better than you. That 'cause you're working for me I'm, um, above you or something. I wanted you to know that. So, uh, you can wear that if you want, but, uh...but then, I'm gonna wear one, too.”

 

He was.

 

It was of the same basic type as Lithuania's but mildly different. There was a panel at the collar topped with a large black bow at his neck. The sleeves were puffed and short, edged with white. The main body was black with a big white apron tied at the waist with two pockets topped with bows. The skirt poofed out, revealing the petticoat underneath. Most noticeably, the skirt was scandalously short, reaching only to America's knees. (Lithuania had heard of America's scantily-dressed women but surely this was taking that too far?) Under that he wore opaque white tights, black tie-up shoes, and a frilled headdress atop his head.

 

He looked extremely handsome.

 

It was... not undistracting. It was, in fact, extremely not undistracted. Lithuania was extremely not undistracted.

 

"Yes,” Lithuania said.

 

"So yeah,” America continued, regaining his confidence. Planting his feet slightly further apart (Lithuania's cheeks went slightly more pink) America held his head high. “'Cause I'm a hero, and what are heroes about if not liberty and justice and equality for all? This outfit isn't just about you and me and some cleaned dishes, no – this is about humanity, nay, the Earth as a whole, the ideal to which all strive!” He clenched his hand into a fist, holding it aloft before him. “This is the maid dress of equality!”

 

"Yes,” Lithuania said.

 

"Do you get it?” America asked eagerly.

"Yes,” Lithuania said.

 

"Wow, really?! That's great! I'm so glad you understand, Lithuania!” Beaming, he clapped a hand on Lithuania's shoulder, the torso of his dress sagging slightly over his non-existent bust. “Well, I'm off to bed tonight. But I'll be wearing it tomorrow, too, okay? And the weekends! And any time you wear yours!”

 

“Yes.”

 

"Great! Good-night!”

 

And with that, he left.

 

Lithuania swayed slightly on the spot.

 

He really had been terribly handsome...!

 

*

 

Months passed and Lithuania became more and more used to working for America. Over time, his suspicions faded and he was forced to conclude that America really was just a very nice guy. As he decided this and began to relax, he came to enjoy living with America, and even to feel an amount of fondness for him. There was just such a life in the nation that Lithuania hadn't seen since Poland – and even then not for a while – and an eternal optimism about him that Lithuania couldn't ignore. America had been doing well when he arrived, but more and more it was appearing that America's success was increasing by the day – money was pouring in, the standard of life was increasing, and Americans were on the whole glad to be alive. Life wasn't perfect for all, but it was better than Lithuania had seen in a long while, and it gave him more hope than anything else.

 

Apart from the magnificent success Lithuania was able to experience, due to living with America he also found himself meeting all sorts of other wealthy and exotic nations he had only ever heard of before. Canada, living just nearby the US, visited often for one- or two-day stays, he and his brother America clearly old friends. Once Australia and New Zealand visited together for a few days, too, bringing over a case of beer and wine that had America happy for days. Even England visited a couple of times, although his visits were always filled with an odd kind of tension that Lithuania wasn't keen to explore. The older nation was always polite to Lithuania, of course, but his relations with America clearly indicated underlying issues that Lithuania suspected would probably forever remain unresolved. He was aware of the basic facts of their history, of course, and studied up a little further after England's first visit, but even if he'd been totally ignorant the way the brothers acted would have betrayed clearly enough that this was not something either wished to talk about.

 

On the other hand, America rarely visited other nations. He went up to Canada once, and took a couple of trips to a few Caribbean islands that Lithuania accompanied him on, but otherwise seemed content to let the other nations come to him.

 

When Lithuania asked him about it, America's response was simple.

 

"But, Liet,” he'd said, “it's not like I need to go anywhere else. Everyone knows I'm the best country in the world – why'd I ever want to leave?”

 

Lithuania wondered how much of that explanation he had sincerely believed. Sometimes it was hard to tell with America – he was clearly more intelligent than he appeared at times, but exactly how much was debatable.

 

However, in their daily life Lithuania and America soon fell into a pattern. Lithuania would wake up early and do morning chores and get dinner ready. Once America woke, they would eat together while listening to the radio and reading the newspaper (America alternated between a variety of American newspapers while Lithuania read a locally-produced one written by and for American-based Lithuanians) until America headed off to work. Lithuania would do his job throughout the day until there was no more left to do, at which point he was free to spend his time and money however he liked. Once America was near to arriving home, Lithuania would begin preparing the meal to eat with him when he returned, except on days America liked to stay out later, in which case Lithuania would prepare something simpler and eat alone. On weekends the two sometimes went out for the day – America loved to show Lithuania fun or beautiful parts of his land, and at one point they spent a week off work together traveling to many interesting places around the US – but mostly they stayed in, listening to music or the radio or reading or just talking. Sometimes they went out for dinner; Lithuania liked to visit Little Lithuania and interact with others of his people working in America and support Lithuanian restaurants, and he appreciated America accompanying him, especially since the younger nation clearly preferred his own foods to Lithuania's.

 

"Well, yeah, I prefer eating fast food,” he's said once, characteristically blunt. “But I know you like seeing your people, and I like coming with you.” His honesty was, as always, appreciated.

 

And during all of this, America continued to wear his dress.

 

At first, it had been quite uncomfortable. The whole point of the dress was to separate Lithuania from his master, so if both he and America were wearing it the entire purpose was broken. However, as Lithuania became more confident in his assessment of America, his pride in himself increased, and he began to sincerely appreciate America's selfless declarations of equality. Then he had come to feel rather silly – had he really bought into that idea that America, as his employer, was better than him? - but given that America was still wearing his dress Lithuania didn't know of any way to stop wearing his without making America look strange.

 

Recently, however, his feelings had changed. The way America looked at him when he wore the uniform hadn't changed, and the idea that such a powerful, successful nation as America found him attractive was a little overwhelming. More than that, the fact that it was America looking at him like that made him...well, happy. America was a kind, funny, energetic, positive, hard-working, _good_ person and Lithuania had enjoyed working with him immensely. He'd introduced him to carnival rides and taken him out to the baseball and taught him to dance. And he looked terribly good in his own maid uniform.

 

*

 

Lithuania undid the bow around his chin, setting the headdress on his table. Today had been pleasant – he had finished the latest story by F. Scott Fitzgerald, which he had thoroughly enjoyed, and the pineapple upside-down cake he'd attempted on a whim had turned out deliciously. And, of course, the gleeful look on America's face when he came home to the dessert had been wonderful.

 

He was playing the scene over in his head – the way America's eyes had lit up; the exuberant way he'd dug into the cake after dinner – and undoing the back of his dress when the door opened before him.

 

"Hey, Liet I was wond-” Suddenly, America stopped, eyes fixed on Lithuania's half-naked body, chest revealed by the dress he was removing.

 

"Ah, sorry!” he yelped almost immediately and the door once again slammed shut.

 

The entire thing had happened in only a few seconds; Lithuania blinked. Had that...?

 

Shaking his head and smiling, Lithuania pulled the dress back up (re-buttoning it would take too long, after all) and opened the door. As expected, America was standing by the wall, face bright red and turned away.

 

"Ah, sorry about that – didn't know you were changing!” he said loudly, voice unusually high.

 

Slowly, Lithuania looked him over. He was already dressed for bed, wearing the blue-lined pajamas Lithuania had ironed for him just today. They were new and slightly too big for him, cuffs falling over his wrists and ankles. Threads of his fine blonde hair touched his cheeks, falling over his forehead. He had taken off his glasses and the beautiful blue of his eyes was more visible now than ever. More attractive than anything else, however, was the adorable rosy blush settled over his cheeks and at the tips of his ears.

 

 _So young_ , Lithuania echoed. _He's so big, but he's still so young – only a few hundred years old. And he's been so alone – sure, he has his brothers and other friends, but he's always stood out from them, never really been a part of even his own family. Is it really possible that he's never..._

 

So successful. And yet...

 

"I didn't mind,” he said quietly.

 

"What?”

 

While America stared at him, Lithuania smiled, as kindly as possible. “I didn't mind,” he repeated meaningfully.

 

His body shivered. Was he really doing this? Was he really suggesting this to someone like Mr. America...? And yet at the same time, it didn't feel strange at all. They'd lived together for months, just as he and Poland had used to. They'd had fun together, made each other laugh, had interesting conversations. They had already created a life together. It was only a temporary arrangement, of course, but what wasn't temporary? If he started this, someday it would end. But for now, it felt...natural.

 

He wanted it. And for once in a long while, Lithuania was going to go for it.

 

"Errr...not really sure what you mean!” America said, voice even louder now, to the point where he was almost shouting. His face was bright red, blue eyes wide. “Hahahaha, but, anyway, yeah, haha, sorry about that!” With that, he spun around and strode, almost stomping, back to his room.

 

Lithuania stared at the door. A rejection? He was tempted to believe it – after all, everything he'd said about America being America and him just being Lithuania had been true. But...no, no, he didn't think so.

 

Maybe...maybe he needed some encouragement...?

 

In the past, when he'd thought something like that he'd felt something like sadness, or blankness. With Russia, it hadn't been encouragement so much as a distraction attempt, if Russia hadn't suggested it himself. To do something like this not out of necessity but out of desire...

 

Lithuania smiled. Perhaps he would come to enjoy wearing the dress, after all...?

 

*

 

For the next week, Lithuania tried to find as many subtle ways of flirting with America as he could. Where before he had resisted physical contact with the younger nation even after they had become friends, now he tried to touch him whenever possible – little brushes of his hand or on his arm or back. He grew more confident in his speech, teasing America more often and being more open to talking about subjects he would have been embarrassed to discuss before. Most of all, he utilized his uniform as much as he was able – he carefully positioned himself in ways America would hopefully find attractive, he allowed America to catch glimpses of his legs when he bent over, and he did his best to (almost teasingly) fulfill the maid archetype. At one point he even garnered the boldness to ask America (in a faux-innocent voice) how he could have been of service; unfortunately, America dropped his cup of coffee in response, and while that may have been a good indication that his tactics were working it had also been, more than that, rather painful for America.

 

He wasn't entirely sure of what he was doing – this was a completely different situation to what it had been with Russia, and Lithuania had had very little experience with flirting in the past, Poland having mostly taken the reigns in their relationship. However, he was trying his best, and he felt that he was doing all right.

 

However, frustratingly, America continued to not respond. In fact, his brush-offs were almost becoming ridiculous – no matter how red he turned or how clearly he had enjoyed Lithuania's flirting he insisted on acting as though nothing was happening. Even more alarmingly, he was beginning to look downright troubled, even unhappy when Lithuania was particularly blatant. It was...not encouraging, to say the least.

 

Were these really just the actions of an inexperienced nation? Lithuania was tempted to forgo every pretense altogether and outwardly tell America of his feelings. But, he always decided not to for two reasons: firstly, he didn't want to overwhelm the young nation, and secondly, he'd still really prefer to get a better idea of whether America might be interested before revealing himself so fully.

 

So, he'd keep on going, and if he got a clear sign either way he'd nod and go along that path, but until then, he'd continue to try.

 

For another two weeks Lithuania's attempts to flirt with America went on and he continued to get a consistently non-committal response. If Lithuania observed any change at all, actually, America almost seemed to be becoming more displeased, more uncomfortable. And yet by his blushes and the way his eyes lingered and the way he smiled Lithuania could tell that he wasn't completely uninterested. It was terribly frustrating, and Lithuania was becoming desperate. Maybe he'd have to just come out with it anyway?

 

He briefly considered getting advice but rejected it – he wasn't close enough to any of America's friends to talk about something like this with them, but none of Lithuania's friends knew enough about America to be helpful. Not that Lithuania had a great deal many friends to talk with, anyway – Estonia and Latvia were there, but they'd never been entirely close, bonding more out of necessity than compatible personalities, and Poland...well, Lithuania and Poland weren't on the best of terms at the moment. In his more optimistic times he liked to think that he had a degree of closeness to the beautiful Belarus, but nowadays it only took a shred of reality to pierce his brain and that idea came crashing down on him.

 

But all of this was another reason to hesitate before propositioning America. Right now, not only was he Lithuania's employer – the one keeping him in this incredible standard of living which Lithuania had never seen before – but also Lithuania's closest friend. Did he really want to lose that? Of course not. But if he could have more – if he and America could have sex, even become lovers...

 

Lithuania paused. Had things really become so dear? Was this really the direction his feelings for America were moving in? Was he, little Lithuania, really stupid enough to fall for the most powerful country in the world?

 

...yes. Because America wasn't just the most powerful country in the world – he was also America; funny, kind, passionate, proud, and a good friend. And that was what Lithuania saw.

 

He could only hope that was what America saw in him, too.

 

*

 

It was a Saturday. America was sitting in the family room listening to music on his phonograph – he had such varied tastes; today he was listening to a new style called 'jazz' – and Lithuania was tidying up.

 

“Liet,” America complained, “stop working! It's Saturday!”

 

“You know, dirt doesn't only accumulate on the week days,” Lithuania teased. He knew he should be making use of his free time but he just couldn't relax while there was work to be done. Although it most often presented itself now in an almost obsessive cleanliness, in truth it had been a part of Lithuania's personality for centuries, harking back to the days of his youth when his farm had kept him working dawn until dusk almost every day. It was only relatively recently he'd found himself able to just sit down and read a book or listen to music without a little voice in his head wondering whether he'd forgotten something.

 

“Do it tomorrow, then!”

 

Lithuania stopped. “On Sunday?”

 

“Monday, then.”

 

“I'll be fine, America. I just need to clean this bit...” Clumsily, he maneuvered the vacuum behind the couch, sucking up the stray pieces of dust. “...then you can take off your uniform, if you want.”

 

“That's not what I'm talking about and you know it.”

 

Lithuania did. After their first day, America had never shown the slightest degree of shame in wearing the uniform whenever Lithuania did. Even when other nations visited, if Lithuania was wearing his dress, America would be, too. Because of that, Lithuania had stopped wearing his uniform if someone came over – he didn't mind himself, but he was concerned about embarrassing America. He wasn't sure whether this determination was fueled from a genuine belief that they should be dressed equally or single-minded stubbornness, but Lithuania hadn't had reason to stop wearing it earlier, and had good reason to keep wearing it now.

 

“Just a little bit...” he mumbled.

 

For a few moments there was silence. In retrospect, that should have caused an alarm to sound in Lithuania's head – America being quiet was never a promising thing. However, he was focused on sucking up a particularly stubborn piece of _something_ stuck to the carpet and didn't notice America sneaking up on him from behind.

 

The next thing Lithuania knew, America was grabbing his hand and twirling him around to face him. In surprise, Lithuania stepped backwards, feet tripping over the vacuum's cord. Without thinking, he tightened his grip on America's hand, pulling him with him as he crashed backwards.

 

“Ugh...” Lithuania coughed, eyes clenched shut. For half a moment he felt pain before all thoughts of that were eclipsed by the warm, heavy body of America lying atop him.

 

He opened his eyes.

 

“Liet...?” America breathed, expression unusually intense, mouth slightly parted.

 

 _He looks like he's about to kiss me._

 

And for Lithuania, thoroughly distracted and at his wit's end, that was a good enough sign of assent. Before he could convince himself otherwise, he leaned up, planting his lips firmly against America's.

 

Ah, they were so soft...! Unhesitatingly Lithuania's mouth probed against America's, pressing and nibbling and sucking. Above him, America went totally rigid, neither moving away nor submitting. Feeling his hopes ebb away, Lithuania kissed him ever more strongly, licking at the seam of his lips.

 

And then – America kissed him back.

 

As though a great weight had been drawn from him Lithuania melted into the floor, moaning against America's now-open mouth. Happily his tongue rubbed and turned against America's tongue before moving onto the room of his mouth, his gums. There was so much to explore here! But America wasn't so willing to just be lead along, either, and he, too, started off on an enthusiastic experimentation in Lithuania's mouth. As expected the younger nation was inexperienced but eager to try, and when he became a little too hasty in his attempts Lithuania felt himself wanting to laugh – not out of awkwardness or scorn but genuine pleasure, earnest playfulness and enjoyment. Tightly he wrapped his arms around America's back, palms flat against the material, and moaned again. It was like nothing he'd felt before – while, as far as he could remember, kisses with Poland had always felt very familiar and normal, this was new and exciting and filled with the same great energy that America never failed to bring to the table. He smiled against America's lips, chuckling as America's tongue licked at the corner of his mouth.

 

...and then he was gone again.

 

For a few seconds Lithuania had no idea what had happened. One moment America had been atop him, in his arms, against his mouth, and then the next...he wasn't. Blinking, Lithuania sat up, spying America – at other end of the room and turned away.

 

“I can't do this, Liet,” he said quietly.

 

He had been so close. He had been... Feeling the weight re-settle in this stomach, now as disappointment, Lithuania brushed himself off. His dick was still partially hard under his skirt from the make-out session; oh, well, that would go down soon.

 

If America didn't want it then so be it.

 

“I just...” America shook his head, clearly distressed.

 

“It's all right.”

 

“I mean...”

 

“If you don't want to, then-”

 

“It's not that.”

 

Lithuania stopped. “What?”

 

“It's...” America picked at the apron above his skirt, pulling it away from him in little tugs. “This is...another of those things, right?”

 

Lithuania sighed. America could be so difficult to understand sometimes, and it really was not helping this time.

 

“What things.”

 

“Like the dress.”

 

Lithuania was silent.

 

“You know...” He tugged at his apron more sharply. “One of those... things. Left over from before. With – with Russia.”

 

Lithuania's eyes went wide and he felt a sudden urge to sit down. “You – you thought I was flirting with you because that's what I used to do with Russia.”

 

“So it is true, then.”

 

Lithuania shook his head, but of course America couldn't see. “Mist-... America. That's not why I was doing that.” He took a deep breath. “I did that...because I like you.”

 

America seemed about to say something, then stopped. “What?” he said quietly, finally turning his head to look at Lithuania through the corner of his eye.

 

 _So young..._ The thought circled through Lithuania's head neither for the first nor the last time of his stay and he couldn't help but smile. Cautiously, he approached America, holding out his hand. Tentatively, he took it.

 

When he opened his mouth, Lithuania almost said it all – everything he felt about America, every way he admired and liked and was amused by and was comforted by and was turned on by about the nation. But he realized that he didn't need to do all that. If he wanted to, there was time for that later.

 

“I like you. And I wanted to know if you liked me, too.”

 

America was looking at him with an expression he'd never seen on him before. “Of course I like you, Lithuania. Of course-” Then, cutting himself off, he almost launched himself forward, capturing Lithuania's lips in a tight kiss.

 

Instantly Lithuania melted, his lips molding to America's perfectly, fitting together like jigsaw pieces. Overcome with joy, he wrapped his arms around America, pulling him tight up against him. The younger nation was a little slower this time, less fast and desperate, more lingering, and Lithuania followed his lead happily. However, this was America, and it wasn't long before he was becoming more passionate again, nibbling at Lithuania's bottom lip before thrusting his tongue into his mouth. Lithuania's grip tightened and America, in turn, moved his hand up to tangle it in Lithuania's hair, thumb brushing against the tie of the headdress Lithuania was wearing.

 

That stopped Lithuania. If they were going to have sex they'd have to figure out these stupid uniforms. But should they really do that after all?

 

"America...” he said in a moan, pushing back a little. Immediately, as though he had been waiting for Lithuania to protest, America moved back.

 

"Am I going too fast?”

 

Lithuania smiled. “I was going to ask you that question!”

 

Although America had pulled back his hands were still at Lithuania's head and waist and he stroked Lithuania's cheek. He frowned. “Are you sure?”

 

Lithuania resisted the urge to sigh exasperatedly. Really, for America to be acting as though Lithuania'd be the one to be nervous about sex! Well, okay, maybe his behavior so far has sort of hinted that way, especially at the beginning. And maybe he really was, a little. But it wasn't as though Lithuania didn't have those exact same things to worry about with America!

 

"I'm fine. I want to.”

 

"And I do, too.”

 

Shaking his head, Lithuania smiled, before pulling America back down for another kiss, sucking hard on the younger nation's lips. After a moment America responded, moving his hands to hold Lithuania's waist and pull him forward against him. In doing that, he accidentally pushed their hips together, too – and then groaned as Lithuania's clothed dick pushed against his through their skirts.

 

Again Lithuania pushed back. Jeez, he kept getting distracted! It didn't help that he was certain America wouldn't be making these pauses if he didn't.

 

Pulling back just enough to take America in, Lithuania frowned. “Er...how do we...take that off?”

 

"I can do it!” America declared before hastily bending his arms behind his back to pull at the material, almost tearing it.

 

"Um – please don't do that!” That dress looked expensive, and if it was anything like Lithuania's it was even more expensive than it looked!

 

"Oh...but then...”

 

Lithuania looked at him again. He really did look terribly handsome in the dress. The cuteness of it enhanced the bright blue of his eyes and golden shine of his hair making him look terribly young and innocent. The frills and lace against his skin made him seem so pale, like a porcelain doll. And the skirt was short enough to show off his lean, strong thighs very well. Really, it was almost a shame to undress him from it.

 

Well. They couldn't do everything if they kept it on, but there'd be more than enough time for that later!

 

"Don't worry about it,” he said instead, smiling encouragingly. When America looked bemused Lithuania knelt down, reaching under his long skirt and trailing his hands up his thighs.

 

"Ah... I s-see...” One of Lithuania's hands traced around the hem of America's undergarments. They were the usual style, reaching down to a bit above his knee and buttoned at the crotch; white. Lithuania had done his laundry so he knew for sure. Slowly but confidently he reached his hands up higher, cupping America's buttock.

 

"A-ah...!”

 

Pleased with that reaction, Lithuania squeezed again, harder, bringing up his other hand to massage America's ass briefly in his hands. America continued to moan quietly and braced a hand on Lithuania's shoulder. After a few enjoyable moments Lithuania continued, trailing his hand around to America's crotch where he could feel the bulge that poked at the front of his skirt.

 

America gasped, hips thrusting forwards into Lithuania's hand. Licking his lips, Lithuania pressed against the clothed erection, providing just enough weight to tease. His other hand squeezed his buttock harder before trailing a single finger down his crack through the undergarments.

 

"Liet, geez...!”

 

Taking pity, Lithuania unbuttoned the front of his underclothing and released his heavy dick. It was still under the skirt so he couldn't see it but it was warm and pulsing in his hand and Lithuania felt his own erection harden further under his skirt to feel it. He gave it a few tentative strokes, clenching his fist tightly around the shaft. America moaned loudly, startling him; but of course – America was loud enough normally, so it only made sense he'd be this way in bed, too.

 

Or in a lounge room, anyway. Speaking of which, shouldn't they probably move?

 

Instead, Lithuania pulled up America's skirt and threw it over his head, drawing his face level with America's revealed dick. So close it smelled wonderful – the heavy skirt kept in the smells and gave an extra edge of sweat to the familiar-yet-unfamiliar scent of arousal. Lithuania took a deep breath.

 

No, this was a much better idea.

 

America made a soft urging noise in the back of his throat and, not needing any further encouragement, Lithuania leant forward to take America into his mouth.

 

The instant his lips engulfed America's length the younger nation moaned loudly, one continuous stream of noise. The sound was muffled from beneath the skirt but Lithuania still couldn't restrain a responding groan, the vibrations rumbling against America's dick. Lithuania sucked, hollowing his cheeks, and America gasped, his moan cutting off into a litany of incoherent phrasings.

 

"Ahhh, fuck, Liet, so good, that's – ahh, please, jus- guhuh...!”

 

God, but it was so _hot_ under here! America's cock was burning hot in his mouth and every part of skin that Lithuania touched – his thighs, his stomach, his shins – all throbbed with heat. The thick material of the skirt made it even worse, trapping in the heat and moisture and causing beads of sweat to run down the back of Lithuania's neck.

 

As he licked and suck at America's erection Lithuania's hands moved up and down his legs before settling at the garter for his stockings. Truly he had gone the full way here – Lithuania hadn't bothered himself. Even on a guy they were unspeakably daring to the Lithuanian – he still hadn't gotten used to how boldly American women were dressing. The silky feel of the stocking felt like water beneath his fingers and the height of the garter only drew more attention to America's thighs. He traced his thumb around the top of the garter, feeling the trembling of America's skin beneath his touch. God, everything he felt was so _hot_.

 

But America was still young and Lithuania could tell he wouldn't last much longer. Rather than teasing him (there'd be more than enough time for that...!) Lithuania stepped up the working of his mouth, sucking and mouthing and licking at the shaft, the head, the base. America's cries became louder, more coherent, and when Lithuania reached one of his hands up to rub the base of his dick while he sucked hard on the head words failed him. Shouting an unintelligible stream of encouraging syllables (if he was capable of as much communication as 'encouragement' anyway), America's hips shuddered, tense in America's desire not to thrust too hard. Instead Lithuania stopped moving his head, encouraging America to fuck himself on Lithuania's mouth. Already lost to such pleasure America conceded, shoving his hips back and forth past Lithuania's tight lips, and after just a few more pushes he was done, mouth widening in a yell as hot semen burst into Lithuania's mouth.

 

Obligingly, Lithuania swallowed it, still working his mouth on America's dick. It wasn't the best taste in the world but it wasn't bad, either. He thought he could get used to it. Not that it would have stopped him if he couldn't.

 

Finally America stopped, practically falling over in his sudden exhaustion. Chuckling, Lithuania reappeared from under his skirt, smiling up at him.

 

"Here.”

 

Too mindless to think differently even if he'd wanted to, America took his hand as Lithuania led him to the couch and flopped down next to him. Once America was seated Lithuania scooched closer, resting his head by America's collar to lick pleasantly against his neck.

 

After a minute or two, America jumped as though suddenly remembering something and instantly his hand was searching for the hem of Lithuania's skirt. Politely but firmly Lithuania pushed it away.

 

America looked at him. “Don't you want...?”

 

"In a minute. I have something else in mind.”

 

America's already pink cheeks reddened even further. His hair looked ridiculous – he hadn't been lying against anything and yet his movements alone had been enough to lend him a distinctly ruffled look. It was impossibly endearing and Lithuania was powerless to resist the urge to pet at the top of his head.

 

America pouted. “I'm not a little kid.”

 

"Of course not.” However, either America didn't mind or was too lazy to bother because he didn't protest again when Lithuania smoothed down the sides of his hair, threading his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

 

Another pause.

 

"Um...so, we're waiting, then.”

 

"Yes, we are.”

 

"...I'm not very good with waiting,” America whined.

 

Lithuania laughed, shaking his head where it rested against America's collar. “I had noticed,” he said diplomatically.

 

America sighed. “So, why are we waiting?”

 

"Because I want to ride you and I thought it might take a few minutes.”

 

America's face went bright red. Luckily, from the way he turned away at Lithuania's words it seemed he shouldn't be able to see Lithuania's face which would certainly have been a quite red color as well. He was becoming so bold...! Well, maybe he'd gotten used to it with Poland – that damn tease never gave him anything unless Lithuania spelled it out for him. Oh well. If it was America, it was okay.

 

That was long enough, anyway. Lithuania moved forward, pressing his lips against America's neck. He felt the younger nation's skin jumped as he gasped.

 

"Do you have any...?”

 

"YES,” America said loudly, standing up immediately and almost knocking Lithuania over. “I mean... not... specifically... but I have other things!” Without another word, he left.

 

Amused, Lithuania leaned back against the couch, imagining what was to come. It had been so long since he'd had a good partner like this, and the fact that it was America... Ah, but the man was so handsome, so beautiful – it was no wonder everyone loved him! He was young, handsome, successful, kind...

 

...and then there was Lithuania.

 

Lithuania shook his head. Now was not the time for that. He was about to have some very good sex from a nation he had come to care about a lot and he was not going to ruin it by obsessing over stupi things. He'd consider it later.

 

He could almost see it already – America's expressive face as he settled himself down on him (he hadn't been able to watch him last time; what a shame!), the way he would yell Lithuania's name the way he had before...

 

"Got it!” America appeared in the doorway and immediately handed Lithuania a bottle of oil. Well, that was good enough. At this point, Lithuania wasn't particularly picky. He took it and stood up for America to sit down.

 

He straddled him, placing the bottle beside them for the moment. America needed no encouragement and leaned up to kiss Lithuania instantly, hands already at Lithuania's sides. Lithuania murmured in pleasure and allowed America to delve into his mouth, tongues twining. The sucking sounds were just obscene enough to please his newly re-emerged erection but he hesitated. He didn't want to go too fast.

 

On the other hand, America's own dick seemed greatly in favor of that idea. Well, in that case, who was Lithuania to argue?

 

Without further ado he pushed his hips against America's, aligning them so their clothed erections rubbed against one another. America moaned freely, grip growing tight at Lithuania's sides. Lithuania found himself groaning as well, almost because of America's voice than because of the wonderful friction on his dick. But this wasn't enough and he scrambled from America's lap long enough to push America's skirt up and hold up his own, removing their underwear. Helpfully, America held up his skirt. The image was intoxicating – America in a frilled maid dress and bonnet, face flushed, skirt held high to reveal the huge, eager erection jutting out between his spread, stocking-covered legs. Lithuania breathed deeply.

 

"God, you are so hot,” America breathed, eyes glazed.

 

Lithuania blushed. He wanted to say something in return – reassure America that he felt the same way – but his dick was urging him to continue and he didn't think America would mind a return to their previous activities.

 

Again he straddled America's lap, thrusting his hips lazily against America's a few times to build up anticipation. When he opened his eyes America was holding the bottle out to him, an unusually tense expression on his face.

 

Lithuania tried not to laugh. It didn't work.

 

"Do you want to-?” he asked, gesturing.

 

America licked his lips. “You,” he said, somewhat hoarsely. He indicated with the bottle again and took Lithuania's skirt, holding it up for him.

 

Nodding and trying vainly to return America's serious look, Lithuania took the bottle and rested his thighs on either side of America's, hauling himself up. Pouring some oil into one hand and then placing it down on the sofa gently without replacing the cap, he leaned one hand against the back of the couch and spread himself.

 

The first finger was easy – he hadn't done this in a while but he'd had more than enough experience overall that it didn't really matter. Almost immediately he pressed a second finger in, wriggling and stretching the muscles. He'd been staring into space in concentration but as he regained his perspective he glanced down at America; the younger nation was still staring at him with that great intensity he had been before. Somehow, it didn't seem so funny anymore – in fact, it was surprisingly hot. He grunted and added a third finger, scissoring. That should be enough.

 

He removed his fingers but before he did anything else he reached his hand down to America's dick and gave it a few firm strokes. Already America was responding, letting out a stream of curses more creative than Lithuania had ever heard from someone who wasn't a drunken Russian. Taking pity on him, he took America in his hand and lined him up underneath him. For several seconds Lithuania was certain America did not breathe, and then he was lowering himself down on America, and-

 

If Lithuania had thought America was loud before he was wrong. The sounds emanating from the younger nation were truly exquisite and Lithuania had to fight the urge to just impale himself onto America with one fell stroke. It burned slightly but less than he had expected and he was pressing down slowly, anyway. When he reached the hilt, his balls resting against America's stomach, he paused just long enough for America to groan at him frustratedly before he lifted himself up and slammed down again.

 

All grace and sophistication left the couple, if indeed they had ever possessed it. Lithuania bounced up and down on America's cock faster and faster with barely a thought entering his head. When he looked back afterwards, he still couldn't understand how America managed to hold up both their skirts to keep them out of the way the entire time but he did it. America's knuckles against the black, frilled material were as white as Lithuania's against the sofa back and their groans just as co-ordinated. America met Lithuania's thrusts, in time at first but then with increasing haphazardness, while soon Lithuania was just pushing down on America's cock as fast as he could. It felt amazing – each thrust was hitting at that spot inside Lithuania that made pleasure pulse through him. He thrust, and he thrust, and he thrust, and he was so close, ah, but then America groaned, almost a yell, and his hips stopped as he came into Lithuania's ass, and Lithuania was done. Taking one final look at his beautiful, beautiful face Lithuania clenched his eyes shut, cheeks clenching as he spurted over America's stomach.

 

For a few moments they were silent except for the sounds of their heavy breathing. And then -

 

With a cry Lithuania stumbled from America's lap, dropping is skirt and standing before him with horror.

 

"What?” America asked sharply, sitting up immediately.

 

"Y-your skirt...”

 

America blinked. Lithuania stepped forward, pulling the hem from America's grip and examining each inch of it. Miraculously, no white stains were to be found, and he breathed a sign of relief.

 

All of a sudden America burst into laughter, slumping back on the sofa and covering his eyes with his hand.

 

"Geez, Liet, you almost gave me a heart attack...!”

 

Lithuania frowned. Well, maybe he deserved that. Except -

 

He gasped again, rushing over to inspect the couch. Of course, in their enthusiasm, the bottle had been knocked over and vegetable oil dripped all over the cushions.

 

"Oh dear...”

 

America laughed again and grabbed Lithuania's hips, pulling him towards himself and kissing him firmly on the lips. “Not now.”

 

"No...” Lithuania kissed him back for a moment before pulling away. “First, we're getting out of these. I am not going to be responsible for us ruining them.”

 

"I'll take responsibility.” At Lithuania's glare he rolled his eyes. “Fine...!”

 

Lithuania kissed him, briefly, on the lips. “Thank you.”

 

America grinned. “Well, since it's you, Liet!”

 

Lithuania beamed.


End file.
